


Risk & Reward

by Braincoins



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean!Shiro, F/M, Fingering, Flut?, Human!Allura, I mean I guess a lot of Shallura already is, If you don't mind the explicit sex I don't know why you'd mind the swearing, Language, Oral, Princess Romelle, Smut, Vaginal Sex, as in F-bombs, but you never know, little flutty I suppose, should I tag this as alien sex?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 05:49:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11306997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins
Summary: Allura is the Black Paladin of Voltron, former Champion of the Galra arena. Everything else she's wanted in her life - going to space, meeting aliens - has ended badly. Why should wanting Shiro - the advisor to Princess Romelle of Altea - be any different? It's not worth risking their friendship to pursue this crush. Or is it?





	Risk & Reward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pixie_rings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixie_rings/gifts).



> Way to survive the semester, Pix! Sorry this is so late. v___v
> 
> \- So yes, imagine Allura in Shiro's clothes, with that scar, that arm, and that bit of white hair. Possibly even the undercut? I haven't decided, but man, any excuse for short-hair Allura.
> 
> \- Shiro is just black-haired in this. But dressed a bit more like Coran. No gloves though. Too old-fashioned.
> 
> \- Considering we haven't seen Romelle in VLD (yet?), this Romelle is damn near an OC (and verging perilously close to self-insert in her "OMG JUST KISS ALREADY"-ness).  
> ===============================

            Allura looked out at the universe through the observation deck “windows.” They were camera feeds, of course, but they functioned the same, when you got right down to it. Even hyper-advanced aliens couldn’t manage actual windows on a spacefaring vessel. In a way, it was comforting to know that some things were the same between modern human and ancient Altean technology. It was the only comfort she had at the moment.

            Her memories were still shards of glass she was piecing back together. Sometimes her attempts to do so cut her and drew blood. She kept at it anyway. She had to know what had happened during her year in Galra captivity. Sometimes, when she awoke in the night, throat-sore and sweat-soaked, she wondered if she could trust herself around the team. She wondered if Romelle and Shiro’s trust in her as the Black Paladin was misplaced.

            And, of course, there was the problem of Shiro, Princess Romelle’s bodyguard/advisor/personal assistant. He’d gone from being a potential threat to a wary ally to a friend they all cared deeply about. Why couldn’t it just have stopped there?

            She looked away from the “windows,” tired of feeling alone in the inky blackness of space. Keith was a help, and the guys were great, but they couldn’t help her with this. She wrapped her arms about herself as if it would fend off the cold thoughts bubbling up within her. _All my life, I’ve always wanted what wasn’t right at hand, always had to do things the hard way. I wanted to go to space. I wanted to go to the very edge of the solar system. I wanted to discover alien life._

Technically, all her wishes had been fulfilled, albeit in a very “be careful what you wish for” way. She had no reason to think her current desires would go any smoother.

            She turned away entirely, intent on going to the hangar for some time spent with her lion before bed. But as soon as her back was to the windows, the doors of the observation deck opened to admit… him. _Of course._

            Still in uniform, even at this late hour. Even after all day spent in it, it was impeccably neat and straight, which she chalked up to some sort of Altean magic, frankly. Blue like the top layers of Earth’s atmosphere, it had to have been tailored to him, the way it accented his broad shoulders and narrow waist. She missed Earth suddenly, if for no other reason than to be far, far away from the dark-haired temptation that was Shiro of Altea.

            “Oh, Allura. I’m sorry; I didn’t know you were in here.”

            She hated how much her heart picked up just hearing his voice. She forced herself not to smile. “I was just leaving.” She tried to focus on presenting a proper military bearing as she headed for the door.

            Because Shiro was her friend and she wanted him to be so, _so_ much more than that. But that was impossible. If he wasn’t with the princess, he likely would be soon. They were of similar age – though Shiro was a little older, Romelle had said – the last two survivors of Altea. Male and female. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that he was sent into stasis with her 10,000 years ago.

            Allura was not about to put her own desires ahead of an entire – and nearly extinct! – race of people. And she respected Romelle too much to step on her toes. It was too much to hope that Romelle was uninterested in Shiro. He was handsome, strong, sweet, intelligent, resourceful, caring, and kind. He had the most wonderful laugh she’d ever heard, and a smile that made her knees weak. _No one’s_ smile had ever done that to her before.

            _Just one more thing I want that’s out of my reach. Story of my life._

            So she kept contact with Shiro to a minimum, kept herself from smiling too much or touching him. She made sure she couldn’t give even the vaguest hint of appearing interested (and she avoided being alone with Keith, too, while she was at it, because the brat knew her too well from their time in the Garrison, and he’d pester her about it). She just had to keep this up until this damnable crush went away.

            But Shiro frowned and, instead of moving out of her way as she expected, he deliberately stepped in front of her. “Allura, I need to know how I’ve offended you.”

            “Offended?” she asked. “Y-you haven’t offended me at all, Shiro.”

            His brow furrowed. “Then I don’t understand what’s happened.”

            “Nothing’s happened. Excuse me.”

            She tried to get past him again, and again he moved to stay between her and the door. “Just _tell_ me. Please?”

            “Nothing’s happened. Nothing’s wrong.”

            He folded his arms. “That’s a load of hoddrop and you know it.”

            “I don’t even know what ‘hoddrop’ is,” she told him. Technically true, but she could guess by the context.

            Shiro liked explaining things, especially about Altea; unfortunately, he wasn’t taking the bait this time. “We used to get along, Allura.” He dropped his arms but didn’t move out of her way. “We were… we were friends, I thought.”

            “We _are_ friends,” she said.

            “You don’t act like it. Not anymore. You act like you can’t wait to get away from me. Do I smell bad? Have I upset you somehow? Do I owe you an apology? I’ve been wracking my brains trying to think of what I’ve done to make you put this wall up between us.”

            She looked away from him. “You didn’t do anything, Shiro. And you don’t smell bad,” she added belatedly, before he could press that point. She didn’t want to think about what he smelled like, about what it would be like to bury her nose in the crook of his neck _Stop That._

            “Well, is _that_ the problem then? Should I be doing something?”

            “NO!” She surprised herself with her own outburst, and she cleared her throat and pulled herself back together. “I’m sorry.” She chanced a look back at him.

            He looked confused and hurt, and it made her ache to think she was responsible for that. “I’d like to say I forgive you, but I don’t know if I can when I don’t even know what’s going on. I want us to be friends again, Allura. And don’t try to tell me we still are.”

            She closed her mouth again, because she’d been about to say exactly that. She shook her head instead. “It’s nothing. I’m just… out of sorts, is all.”

            “Is there some way I can help?”

            “No.”

            “Do you need to go to the infirmary?”

            “No, it’s not a medical problem.”

            He fell quiet, studying her, then, at last, stepped out of her way. “I want to help, but if there’s truly nothing I can do, then I suppose all that’s left to me is to wish you a good night.”

            “Good night, Shiro,” she said gratefully, and fled from the observation deck. _Screw going to the hangar_ , she thought. _I’m going to take as cold a shower as the Castle systems will let me and then straight to bed._

But even such a simple desire was meant to be thwarted, it seemed: Romelle was standing outside her door when she got to her room. “There you are!” The princess smiled and waved as if Allura could have missed her in the otherwise empty hallway. “I wanted to talk with you, just for a moment. If that’s okay?”

            “Of course, Your Highness.”

            Romelle rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to ‘Your Highness’ me when it’s just us, Allura!”

            “Of course not, Your Highness,” she replied, but she couldn’t stop herself from smirking.

            That earned her a thwap on the arm from the last princess of Altea. “You’re terrible.” The door opened and Allura gestured to let Romelle go first into the room. “But I’ll keep it brief, I promise. I’m sure you’re probably tired.”

            “I’m fine.”

            Her mouth skewed in annoyance. “That’s what you always say. And I don’t need Shiro chirping at me over the comms to know that’s not always true.”

            _Sonofa-…_ She kept her face neutral. “There’s nothing wrong,” she insisted. “Shiro and I are still friends, he hasn’t done anything to upset me or that he needs to apologize for.”

            “Okay, but you have to acknowledge you _have_ been pushing him away. We’ve all seen it.”

            “I…” _Damn._ She sighed. “It’s not his fault. And it’s not something you need to worry about.”

            Romelle tilted her head in confusion. “I just want you two to be happy. And neither of you seem to be happy right now.”

            “I don’t have to be happy to defend the universe,” she said.

            “No, but you don’t have to be miserable, either.” Romelle leaned back against the wall and folded her arms. “And it’s making Shiro miserable, too. I don’t want that.”

            “I know you don’t. He’s been with you a long time.”

            “Yeah,” she agreed. Her gaze fell through the floor and back in time. “We grew up together. Sort of. He’s got a few years on me, after all. But we sparred together and learned together and… he’s like the big brother I never had.”

            A faint spark of hope lit in her chest. Allura tamped it down stubbornly. “You two are close. I understand.”

            “Yeah.” Her voice was almost its own echo, her mind still lost in the past.

            “And now you’re the only two Alteans left, aside from the mice. I suppose it’s lucky that you care so much for each other.”

            Romelle double-blinked and her head snapped up. “What? What are you talking about?”

            Allura felt her cheeks start to warm. “Well… just that… I mean… to save the Altean race… it’s good that you two already…”

            “EW!” Romelle shuddered. “Are you serious, Allura? First of all, it would take more than a single male and female to repopulate an entire race. The eventual inbreeding would render such attempts laughably futile. And secondly, ME AND SHIRO?! LIKE THAT?” She shuddered again; Allura was almost sure she was exaggerating it for effect. “No! He’s. Like. A Brother. And he doesn’t think of me that way, either.”

            “Are you sure? I mean, he’s awfully protective of you.”

            “He’s supposed to be! That’s part of his job! And, yeah, sure, we’re friends, and I care about him a lot, but I don’t want to… EW, okay, just EWWWWW.”

            Her heart wanted to soar, but she pulled it back down. _She might be wrong. She might not know how much she means to him._ But all of that just meant she’d have to talk to Shiro about it.

            “Look, whatever’s going on with you two, you need to talk to him about it,” Romelle insisted, unconsciously echoing her own thoughts. _At least, I_ hope _she can’t actually read minds. Who knows what Alteans can do? Hell, I’m not even sure Romelle herself knows everything she can do._

            But Romelle was still speaking. “He’s really grown fond of you, Allura, and this distance you’re putting between you two hurts him.”

            Her face was starting to heat up again. “He’s been a good friend,” she agreed.

            Romelle murmured something, turning to look towards the door.

            “Sorry, what was that?”

            “Nothing,” the princess replied in a smug “I know something you don’t know” voice.

            “Romelle.”

            “No, no. Nothing important at all.”

            “Romelllle,” she sing-songed.

            “No, no,” she said, looking back to her, “it’s just that I happen to know…”

            “…something you want to tell me,” Allura finished for her. “But it’s something you’re not _supposed_ to tell me, so you’re putting up token resistance so you can semi-truthfully say later that I dragged it out of you. So let’s just pretend we went through all of that and you just go ahead and tell me now, hm? To save us all some time?”

            Romelle perked up. “See, this is why I knew you’d make a good Black Paladin!”

            “Oh, so it didn’t have anything to do with my clothes?”

            “No, It Did Not!” Romelle huffed and folded her arms. “And I’d appreciate it very much if everyone would stop accusing me of that.”

            “What is it you’re not supposed to tell me but will anyway?” she prompted before the princess could go off on The Colour Rant for the five thousandth time (though, if she had, Allura had no one to blame but herself for bringing it up again).

            “Oh, yes!” She was back to beaming. “Well, it’s just that you said he’s been a good friend to you…”

            “And he has been. To all of us.”

            “…and I just Happen to know that he’s willing to be a lot more than that if you’d let him.” Romelle grinned. “If you know what I mean? I’m more than happy to spell it out for you if I need to.”

            Allura’s face flared. “Uh, no, I’m… pretty sure I know what that means. But are you certain?”

            She nodded. “Absolutely! He was fretting over how to let you know when you suddenly started distancing yourself, which is all the more reason he’s so upset.”

            “He was? Really?” She found it hard to believe.

            “It’s not that hard to believe!” _I swear it’s uncanny sometimes._ “You’re gorgeous, Allura! Have you never looked in a mirror before?”

            That wasn’t helping the blush. “That’s an opinion, and not one I was sure he’d share.”

            “Well, he does. And he has a thing for competent, kickass, take charge women. Who aren’t me, anyway. I’m too much of a little sister to him.”

            Allura cleared her throat. “Did he… actually say all this to you?”

            Romelle nodded. “We’re close, remember? We talk about these things. Even more now; we’re all either of us has left anymore.” She cleared her throat before the reminder could get too heavy.

            “Yeah.” She scrambled to find something more eloquent (or at least intelligent) to say.

            Fortunately, she didn’t have to. Romelle practically pounced on her, taking hold of her left arm and grinning at her. “So you’re going to go talk to him, right? He’s still on the observation deck, probably.”

            “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

            “Of course it is! No time like the present!” Romelle practically hauled her towards the door.

            “Yikes! Don’t yank my other arm off!” Allura protested. “I’m going, I’m going!”

            The princess giggled and let go. “Sorry. Go on.” She darted in to whisper, “He has a very big bed all to himself. Just so you know.”

            “Oh my GOD, Romelle.” Allura shoved her out the door as it opened. “Go take a cold shower.”

            “He has his own private bath, too.”

            She bit back any further response because she didn’t want to encourage the princess further. Fortunately, that seemed to be the end of it, as Romelle gave her a sly wink and practically skipped away down the corridor.

            Allura exhaled and started back towards the observation deck. _We’ll talk about this, get over the awkward bits. Just so he doesn’t think I’m upset with him._ Her traitorous mind, usually fond of tormenting her with how much of the last year she couldn’t remember, was now playing possible future scenarios for her, teasing her with thoughts of… _Stop that. Just talking. It’s an attraction, and even if he’s also attracted to me, there could be dozens of reasons not to act on it._ She couldn’t think of any. And her mind was still replaying fantasies for her, as if she needed the reminder.

            She squared her shoulders, sucked in and slowly let out a deep breath, and then walked back onto the observation deck. Shiro was standing with his back to her, looking out the “windows.” He didn’t turn around. “Romelle talked to you.”

            “She did.”

            He sighed. “It wasn’t my intention. She was tracking me, possibly both of us. She saw me enter the observation deck and you leave it. I swear as soon as the doors closed behind you, she had a screen up in my face screeching at me.”

            Allura couldn’t help smirking a little. “Is she always such a busybody?”

            “I don’t know the term, but I can guess its meaning. So, yes, absolutely, she always has been and likely always will be.” He finally half-turned away from the view and smiled tightly at her. “Shall I also guess what she’s been telling you that’s brought you back here?” He looked like a condemned man facing the firing squad.

            Allura summoned up her courage to put him out of his misery. “I…” She thought of a half-dozen things she could say instead, leading into it gently, but she made herself stick to her plan. “I’ve been pushing you away because I thought my attraction to you was… ill-advised.”

            He blinked and turned to face her fully. The pink coming into his cheeks was an interesting contrast to his light blue eye markings. “Your attraction to me?” he repeated.

            Her face was hot as she nodded. “Yes. I believed you and Romelle…”

            “PLEASE don’t finish that sentence,” he pleaded, screwing his eyes shut. “I would never think of her like that.”

            She cleared her throat, but pointed out teasingly, “Like what? You didn’t let me finish.”

            He opened his eyes to point at her accusingly. “You don’t have to! I know where that was going. Ugh. She’s… no. That’d just be wrong.”

            “Even to save the Altean race?”

            He blinked at her, lowering his hand. “To save the…? US? No, no, no, you’d need a minimum viable population of _at least_ 25 couples to preserve genetic diversity, and…”

            Allura couldn’t help laughing. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I’m a pilot, not a biologist.”

            He eased down a little. “I’m not sure if I _can_ forgive you for that.” He shuddered.

            She pouted at him. “Really?”

            “Oh, don’t do that. You’re forgiven.” When she stopped pouting and smiled, he snorted. “You’re worse than she is sometimes.”

            “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.”

            “Little of each, probably.”

            “In that case, I am both honored and incensed.” But she couldn’t help beaming.

            His smile widened in response. “I’ve missed this.”

            “So have I,” she admitted. “And I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought if I kept you at arms’ length long enough, this would go away.”

            His smile began to fade. “Your attraction to me, you mean?” When she nodded, he pursued, “You want it to go away?”

            “I… didn’t want to risk our friendship. And I was, yes, perhaps too caught up in the drama of the last man and woman of Altea needing to…”

            “PLEASE,” he interrupted. “We’ve been through that last bit. I don’t want the mental images.” But he started to walk towards her, slowly, she noted, as if she were a skittish animal. She couldn’t really fault him for that approach. “So that just leaves the risk to our friendship. W-would it help if I told you I feel the same way?” She was about to ask for clarification, but he tsked at himself and did it without prompting. “I mean that I am attracted to you as well, but I also didn’t want to lose you as a friend or make our, for lack of a better term, ‘working relationship’ awkward.”

            “Yeah, that. And, um. It does help.” Her blush had started to fade, but she could feel it threatening again. “More than Romelle saying so, certainly.”

            He muttered something under his breath. It was a string of words in Altean, most of which she didn’t know, but given the look on his face and the fact that she did catch “quiznak” in there, she could make a good guess.

            He was close enough now that she could reach out and take his hand; when she did so, he blinked and looked down at their joined hands. She kept her eyes on his face, watching for a reaction: to the hand-hold itself, to the fact that it was her Galra hand, to… to anything. He raised his eyes back to hers, smiled, and gave her hand a squeeze, and she felt the smile split her face before she could stop it.

            “So… now what?” he asked her.

            “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I can’t think of any reason not to pursue this, but I thought maybe you could?”

            His brow furrowed. “You’re still looking for a way out.”

            “No! Yes. I don’t know.” It was her turn to look down at their hands for a moment. “I’m just afraid, I suppose.”

            “Afraid?” He sounded surprised.

            “Everything else I’ve wanted has turned out badly. I don’t want this to end up the same way.”

            He was quiet for a long moment, and she couldn’t bear to look at him. She thought about letting go of his hand, pulling away, but then he brought his hand to her chin. She let him pull her face back to his. His dark eyes were pleading. “I can’t make you any promises on that, Allura. I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to be hurt myself. Maybe things _will_ turn out badly. There’s no way to know. But I know that whenever I’m with you – when you’re _you_ , and not this statue you’ve been around me lately – you gladden my heart and lighten my soul. You give the universe hope every time you fight Zarkon, but you give me hope every time you smile at me. And hope… hope is worth the risk, isn’t it?”

            Her vision started to blur, even as her smile crept back. She licked her lips a little and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

            He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. His smile returned and he dropped his free hand to her shoulder. She stepped a little closer to him, and he leaned in, those beautiful eyes with their impossibly long lashes already starting to fall closed. Her lips met his halfway for a short, sweet kiss.

            She remembered to breathe again when they pulled away, but it was a brief parting. She wasn’t sure who pulled who back in; she only knew that she was kissing him like he was the air her lungs needed, and he’d pulled his hand away from hers to wrap her up in his arms.

            She lost track of time like that, holding him and being held, kissing him and being kissed. Her pulse was electric, her heart pounded with the charge of it, but there was a deep and abiding calm at the center of it all. She wanted to stay in this moment where she was nothing more than a person giving and accepting affection, where she felt warm and safe, where there were neither words nor need for them.

            And when they parted, he laid his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. She smiled as she did the same. “We can take this as slow as you need to, Allura,” he told her.

            “Right,” she agreed. “Slow. No rush.”

            “None at all.”

 

 

            She practically pushed Shiro back onto his bed, but he pulled her with him, unwilling to let their lips part for even a single second. Her brain distantly recorded the sound of his door shutting behind them.

            He took advantage of her brief distraction to roll them over, but she just welcomed the chance to wrap her arms around him now, pressing him close to her. He deepened the kiss hungrily until he had to break away for a moment to breathe.

            “This is what Earthlings mean by ‘going slow,’ is it?” he teased, breath hot and voice low as he kissed along her cheek towards her ear. He punctuated his question by sucking on her earlobe a little.

            “Not usually, no. Does it bother you?” She had a feeling she knew the answer to that, but she had to be sure.

            “No,” he whispered. “Not at all. I’ve wanted you for so long, but…”

            “But?”

            He pushed himself up just enough to be able to look her in the eyes again, chest heaving as he caught his breath again to speak. “I want to be sure you don’t feel pressured at all.”

            She smiled. “I don’t. Not by you, anyway.”

            He frowned. “By Romelle? Because I will go Talk To Her This Instant if she…”

            Allura tightened her grip on his back. “Don’t you dare leave. I don’t feel pressured by Romelle, either. I’m just torn between, well…” She felt her face heat.

            “Between what?” he asked, annoyance melting away into confusion.

            “Between taking the time to savor what I’ve been wanting for so long,” she said, trailing a hand over his shoulder and then a single finger down his chest, “and just ripping your clothes off and pinning you to the mattress.” When she reached his waist, she slid the hand back around him again, lest he get any funny ideas about leaving.

            He laughed, but she was gratified to see his cheeks redden. “How about ripping my clothes off and _then_ savoring?”

            She grinned. “Ooh, that’s an agreeable compromise.” She looked over his uniform and then cocked her head. “But I have to confess, I’m not quite sure where to start the whole ‘ripping’ bit.” She peered at various seams, trying to figure out where and how the thing fastened itself. “I’m not entirely convinced you don’t just spray paint this on every day.”

            He laughed again, harder this time. “Well then, allow me to demonstrate.” He rose up, still straddling her, to begin disrobing. She propped herself up on her elbows to enjoy the show. She tried to watch his fingers, to figure out how this unnaturally-crisp uniform worked, but it seemed like the briefest brush of his fingertips released hidden stays. She became more and more distracted as his impeccably-sculpted frame was revealed, and she licked her lips when he shed the top layer entirely.

            She’d expected him to be smooth and unblemished, but there were scars here and there, small and scattered like shooting stars along his skin. Unfortunately, he caught her staring. “Romelle and I didn’t sleep through the _entire_ war against Zarkon,” he informed her gently. “And there was training before that.”

            She chuckled thinly. “The training deck showed me what Alteans expect of their children.”

            His smile in return was faint as he admitted, “I envy Earth children their ability to grow up without needing to know such things so soon.”

            She shrugged. “Perhaps we’re sheltering them too much.”

            He traced a finger gently over The Scar, as she thought of it. She had many, but only one she had to face every time she looked in the mirror. His fingertip brushed softly along her cheek, over her nose, underlining her eyes. “Perhaps.” He trailed his hand along her right shoulder, down to her arm. He didn’t even hesitate to trace the metal plates, and she found it strangely alluring that he treated this unwanted memento of a year she couldn’t remember as just one more part of her to explore. And he proved it by lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss against the back like some ancient courtier greeting a princess.

            _Don’t_ , she wanted to say. _Don’t make it any easier to fall in love with you._ But she couldn’t make the words – any words – come out of her mouth. And then he leaned down to kiss her again, and she tossed away the desire to protest.

            She smoothed her hands over his back, down between his skin and the cloth. He’d also had occasional light blue markings here and there, like the ones under his eyes, and when her hands passed over them, they were warm to her touch, warmer than the rest of him. She found a somewhat v-shaped one in the small of his back and traced it with her fingers out of curiosity.

            He moaned against her mouth and she arched an eyebrow. Experimentally, she raised her hips up, rubbing against the still-covered half-mast in his pants. He drew in a shuddering breath. So far, so good. But when she repeated the motion again, undulating against his groin, she traced the marking just above his ass again at the same time.

            He trembled and gasped like he’d just been shot, and for a moment she worried she’d overdone it. But before she could apologize, he seized her mouth again, kissing her hard and deep. _Well, I’m going to remember_ that _little trick._

            One hand grabbed hold of the zipper on her vest and yanked it down. He lowered his mouth to her throat, sucking on it through the cloth of her shirt. She combed her left hand into the hair at the nape of his neck. Now that the vest was open, he let his hand tug her shirt up out of her pants and slide up underneath it. It was as if his hand hungered to touch her skin.

            “Humans don’t have markings,” she reminded him as best she could. It felt like he was sucking the air right out of her lungs. She punctuated it with another long, slow stroke of that one marking of his, and he groaned gutturally against her neck.

            “Allura,” he protested, voice slurring as if he were drunk, “you’re going to make me lose control if you keep that up.”

            “Sorry.” Of course, she wasn’t, at all, and she proved it by sliding her fingers over his skin, just briefly brushing the marking (and earning a hissed-in breath for it) before grabbing hold of his ass with both hands. “Is this better?”

            He lifted his head to smirk at her. “Yes, actually.” He leaned in; she assumed it was for a kiss, but he surprised her by just licking her lower lip once and pulling away out of range again quickly. “And if humans don’t have markings, I’m curious about what you _do_ have. I feel I’m owed a little revenge, after all.”

            “Are you?” she asked innocently, arching herself up against him again.

            He narrowed his eyes. “Absolutely.”

            “Well,” she replied, “I’m not about to make it easy on you.” She grinned at him. “If you want me to lose control, you’ll have to figure it out on your own.”

            “With pleasure,” he agreed immediately. “Mine and, hopefully, yours as well.” He pushed himself up again – she had to let go, regretfully – and regarded her, lying there beneath him. “But I feel like you have me at a disadvantage here.”

            “I absolutely do, yes, and it’s wonderful,” she insisted.

            He snorted with laughter and reached to unbuckle her belt.

            “Let me.” She sat up to pull her vest off. “It’ll go faster. And you can spend that time finishing what you’ve started, too,” she reminded him, nodding at his pants.

            He didn’t protest. She tried to keep herself on task and not let herself get distracted this time. She couldn’t help wondering where he’d gotten his scars and if tracing the other markings would render similar results or if it was just that one that was so… sensitive. But then she remembered something.

            “Um… my arm.”

            “Hm?” He was finishing getting his boots off. “What about it?”

            “Well, I can leave it on for… for this, but I can’t really sleep in it, and…”

            He leaned over to kiss her softly. “Leave it on or take it off as you need to.”

            “It doesn’t bother you?”

            He straightened up to consider that. “It… bothers me that they took something from you that you did not willingly give. It bothers me that they did this _to_ you. But the arm itself is… it’s _your_ arm now, Allura. I don’t…” He stopped, and she noticed his cheeks flare before he continued, trying to smooth over the unnatural pause, “care about your arm; I care about _you_ , Allura. I want your happiness, your pleasure. The arm itself doesn’t bother me. You being without it doesn’t bother me.”

            She could have called him on the pause. She had a feeling she knew what he’d been about to say instead. She kissed him instead, pulled away slowly, looked him in the eyes, then gave him a playful shove. “Finish stripping.”

            “Yes, ma’am.” He smiled and set about the task she’d given him.

            She just shook her head and continued pulling her clothes off. “I suppose this isn’t really ripping _your_ clothes off of you…”

            “Another night.”

            “Yes.” There was a dark part of her mind that wondered if there’d _be_ another night. _Shut up_ , she told it. _We’re going to focus on_ this _night._ “Count on it.”

            He had a head start on her, so when he was fully naked, he came over to help her, tugging and tossing clothes aside, kissing newly revealed skin. She began to notice that he was paying special attention to her own scars, her ‘medals’ from the Galra arena. That’s how they thought of them. They considered them a source of pride. It made her all the more determined to hide them away.

            Yet here was Shiro, tracing them with fingers and lips and tongue. They were no different to him than her arm seemed to be. “Why are you doing that?” she finally asked him as her panties joined all the rest of her clothes on the floor of his room.

            “Does it hurt? Is it awkward? I don’t have to…”

            “No, it’s fine. I’m just curious why you’re paying so much attention to them.”

            “I’m thanking them for protecting you. For helping you survive so you could be here with me.” He pressed a long, soft kiss to one on her shoulder, and then pulled her in towards him to repeat it for her lips.

            _Why must you make it so easy to fall and so hard not to?_ She wondered why she was still trying to resist though. There was the matter of their ‘working relationship,’ as he’d called it. Of their friendship. Of… _Fuck it. Fuck all of it. What’s one more scar amongst so many others?_

She couldn’t say it yet. But the acknowledgement stirred her, let her last resistance fall away. He was facing her, kneeling on the bed. She clambered atop his legs, wrapping her arms around his neck to hold him close and deepen the kiss.

            His fingertips drifted reverentially over her back. She noticed he traced the same v-shape just above her ass, and she could almost feel him deflate a little when it didn’t have the same effect on her. She pulled away to grin. “Told you.”

            “I haven’t finished my exploration.”

            “I’m sure as hell not stopping you.”

            “Lay down.”

            She thought about being cheeky, about asking ‘face up or down?’ and such. She couldn’t stand to draw it out. She pushed herself away from him and laid on her back for him.

            He scooted over to sit next to her and let a hand fall to her knee. He stroked down towards her ankle, then back up again, over her thigh to her belly. He tickled her belly button and slid his hand up from there to her breast.

            One finger circled her nipple lazily, only occasionally brushing across the top. She smiled and rolled a little to try to get more of his hand on her, but he just cocked his head, studying her as he continued his light touches. “Not enough, I’m guessing?”

            “Well, it’s nice,” she told him. “I’m not going to complain about you keeping it up, but it’s nowhere near as sensitive as that marking of yours seems to be, no.” She tried to reach her right hand around him to his back.

            He grabbed hold of the hand, interlaced his fingers with hers, and pushed her arm down to the mattress. “None of that.” Then he snorted at the innocent expression she pulled on. “And I’m not buying _that_.”

            She swapped the mock-innocence for a genuine grin. “You have more exploring to do,” she reminded him.

            “Is there a point to exploring if you don’t have markings?”

            “Humans have sensitive parts! They just don’t glow strange colors is all.”

            “It’s not a strange color,” he insisted.

            “Okay, you’re right; it’s quite lovely, really. Brings out your eyes.”

            He snickered again and let his hand trail back down. He let go of her other hand as he moved out of “harm’s” way, and now he had two hands roaming over her skin. He never remarked upon her scars, and she just watched him move lower down her body with a neutral expression, giving him no help whatsoever.

            “And anyway,” she continued, “are the markings the _only_ sensitive bits?”

            He cleared his throat. “I didn’t say that.”

            She grinned. “Can I make a guess as to where else might be…”

            “Hush,” he told her, sounding amused.

            “Oh, am I distracting you from your ‘exploration’?”

            “You did say you wouldn’t make it easy on me.” But then a hand slid between her legs, and she bit her lip and tried to keep herself from instinctively bucking her hips towards him. Unfortunately, he noticed. “Ah, I was hoping that might do it.”

            “Not quite yet.”

            He grinned and a finger slipped between her folds and down over her clit. She gasped and his grin widened. “I think I’ve found what I was looking for.”

            She couldn’t really think of a cheeky response to that, and her attempts at banter were further derailed when he did it again. She just laid back and let him ‘explore’ all he wanted after that. He alternated between light teases and hard strokes. She spread her legs a little more for him, licked her lips, and tried to keep her breathing steady.

            That went straight out the nonexistent windows when he _licked_ her suddenly. When she raised her head and opened her eyes, he was looking at her, one eyebrow arched curiously. “Y-you can keep doing that if you want,” she informed him, and groaned again when he decided that, yes, he apparently did want to.

            “Should I be trying to make you lose control like this?” he asked.

            She had to gather up enough air to waste on words. “You can,” she said. “It won’t take me long to be ready for more afterwards, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

            “Insatiable, are we?”

            “I wouldn’t put it _that_ way,” she protested, but he let his tongue lead the way before sucking her clit into his mouth and she gave up this ‘speaking’ nonsense, aside from moaning out his name encouragingly.

            She felt a finger edge her entrance and she rocked her hips towards it because she didn’t want him to have to ask, she didn’t want to have to talk again, she just wanted to get off to his mouth and his hand and she hoped to whatever god there might be that he understood her body language.

            He didn’t ask in words. He edged again, and she whimpered and jutted in response, and he accepted that as the affirmative it was as one finger glided in. She managed a “yes,” just to be safe, and then a “more” of encouragement. A second finger joined the first, but he reduced his attention to her clit to easy licking, damn him. “More… of everything,” she panted. “Please.” She was almost surly about adding the politeness, because she was so on edge. It’d been a while since she’d had someone with her, and Shiro was so unlike any of her other partners. She was going to be easy to please tonight. _I’ll explain to him later that he’ll have to work more for it in the future._

            Because now was for Shiro’s tongue teasing her clit as he sucked on it and a third finger deargod _yes_ plunging into her. His other hand stroked the back of her thigh, rough fingertips brushing gently against her skin in contrast to the harder and faster attentions he was giving her. She combed her left hand into his hair – her right was already a fist in the bedsheets – and tried to remember _how_ breathing was supposed to work because she seemed to have forgotten entirely and her body was just fighting to have air enough to survive on. And then he hummed like he was enjoying a fine meal, lips and tongue still on her clit, and the world went white behind her eyes.

            When she could open them again, chest still heaving for air, she managed to catch him sucking one of his fingers clean. He caught her looking, and she arched an eyebrow at him because she was just _not_ able to speak right now, dammit.

            “Curiosity,” he told her. He laid down on his side next to her, tracing her scars lightly. “You taste good.”

            She just smiled. She laid there and focused on the ceiling as he kissed her ear and her cheek and her shoulder. He nuzzled her neck and made her giggle and continued to trace the path of her scars. Once she got enough breath back, she waited until he was distracted with a lingering kiss to her cheek and reached her hand – her right hand – over to tease the tip of his cock.

            He gave a little start and his head shot up. She smiled sweetly. “You don’t mind if I do some exploring of my own, surely?” She bit her lower lip and batted her eyelashes up at him, aware of the effect it had on some people.

            It apparently worked, because he blushed and muttered, “Don’t look at me like that,” as his eyes darted away. He cleared his throat and looked back to her. “You can explore a little, but I’d rather not…”

            “…Come?” she guessed for him.

            He was confused by the word, but after some brief explanation, he nodded. “Ah, yes. I’d rather not come just yet.”

            She ran two of her metal fingertips down along his shaft. “Oh? Saving it for something special?”

            He shivered a little. “I… suppose you could say that.”

            “Are my fingers cold?” She was bringing them back up now.

            “No, they’re quite warm,” he assured her.

            “Good,” she said, encircling the head. “So what is it you’re waiting for, exactly?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer that; with a good tight grasp on him, she let her hand descend again as she purred at him, “You want to come inside me, Shiro?”

            His groan was low and guttural and it sent a shiver through her. He nodded until he managed to say, “Y-yes. I-if that’s okay. I…” His hips rocked to meet her hand.

            “It’s okay.” She reached over with her hand to pull him down towards her more and made sure to look him in the eyes as if she weren’t blushing when she informed him, “I have dreamed of having you inside me.”

            He kissed her hard and, in return, she went easy on stroking him. And when they broke for air, a shared look was all they needed.

            He pushed himself up enough to get in position; she draped a leg over one of his and looped her arms around him. He went slow, almost achingly so, but it felt So. _Damn. **Good.**_ to relish every hot, hard inch of him. Still, she wanted him badly, needed him to know that slow was not going to cut it for long. So when she got the chance, she did a quick, hard stroke along that one marking above his ass.

            He hissed and she grinned, and he surged down to kiss her again before pulling back and thrusting in harder. A moan broke out of her and he leaned in, tucking his head in against her neck to lap at her throat as he slowly built up speed.

            She wrapped her legs around him and turned her mouth towards his ear to shudder out his name. She tried to hold herself in check, but it was difficult when her cunt was still sensitive from her first orgasm and now here he was, the man of her dreams buried to the hilt in her and moaning her name against her skin and all she could think of was _God I’ve Wanted This I’ve Needed This Needed You Shiro So Long Fuck Yes Shiro More Just Like That Don’t Ever Stop_ over and over, each word a bead on her rosary strung together by the ecstasy coursing through her veins.

            Her name was increasingly broken on his lips, and she gave up trying to resist coming just as surely as she’d given up lying to herself before. She arched up into him and it was the sound of him more than anything else that said he’d come at the same time. When color bled back into the world, she could feel it, could see him lying next to her still catching his breath, and she grinned.

            Using the last of her strength, she rolled over next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Not bad,” she teased, still getting her own air back.

            He arched an eyebrow at her. “‘Not bad’?” he repeated curiously.

            She shrugged and scraped together enough air to manage, “Well, for our first time, anyway. I’m sure you’ll try harder next time.”

            Curiously, he grinned. “Harder than – what was it? – ‘fuck yes Shiro more just like that don’t ever stop’?”

            It felt like her whole body went crimson. “I actually said that out loud? FUCK.” She dropped her face against his chest.

            He laughed. “I enjoyed it. Not as much as what came before it.”

            “Remind me; most of what I remember is the ‘fuck yes’ part.”

            His grin softened. “The part where you said you needed me.”

            She pulled her face up to kiss his cheek. “That was true. It was all true. And it was a lot better than ‘not bad,’ just so we’re clear.”

            “It’s true for me, too, Allura. I’ve never known anyone like you.”

            “Right back at you, Shiro.” She exhaled contentment. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

            “I’d be honored. But what do we do about the others? Romelle alone is going to be insufferable.”

            “We’ll deal with that in the morning. I want to do a little more exploring before we turn in for the night.”

            “Insatiable,” he accused her.

            “You love it.”

            And his voice rang with sincerity when he said, “Yes, I do.”

                       


End file.
